


Happier Endings

by jalyn712



Category: Matt Houston (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1604927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalyn712/pseuds/jalyn712
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the episode "Caged." Not light and fluffy, but it ends well. Title pertains to story, not the episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happier Endings

She stood looking out over the city - her very favorite place to be, when she wasn't flying above it all.

She'd been in this exact spot, earlier, when he'd come to get her. He'd asked her to come join them inside, at the party he'd thrown in her honor. She'd acquiesced because she felt guilty for not wanting to be there, at all. The party dress and her gracious behavior were simply for show - another faked attempt for the masses.

Well, maybe, that was a bit extreme. It's not like her last name was branded on the building below. Sure, she'd made the news, but it was soon unimportant and replaced with other late-breaking stories. Cringing at what some of those other reports had been, she still wished she could forget about her own ordeal.

Yet, tonight, she was at a party in her honor for the very things she was trying to forget. Counterproductive, she thought. Pretending to be mended for everyone wasn't working, and part of her had even resented them for making her do this - put on an act, when she wasn't feeling okay. Not yet.

Even as she stood thinking this, she knew they were only trying to help her out of the funk she'd slipped into. Though she hadn't had to live for very long without her memories and her identity, it was enough to alter her perceptions of life.

What if she hadn't been found? What if she'd been murdered before he could come to her rescue?

The last thought made her cringe for more than one reason.

First of all, the thought of being killed and buried in some unmarked place in the desert - as if she was completely inconsequential - made her feel as it was meant to...like she was next-to-nothing. Second, the fact that she had had to be rescued like that, at all, disgusted her.

It didn't matter that it was Matt. It didn't matter that the circumstances were so far-fetched as to be almost unbelievable.

She'd always felt that she was strong. And, she'd never expected anything like this to happen to her. She was a Harvard graduate. F. Lee Bailey's best protege. She knew so many patterns of the criminal mind; she knew what to look for and how to protect herself in so many instances. No matter how anyone perceived her to be, she was someone in-the-know.

Or, so she'd thought.

Because this...this most recent turn of events...had shaken her to her very core. Because none of her previous experience had mattered.

One car accident, amnesia...and the rest is history. Nothing foreseeable. Nothing to plan for. No training or experience could keep it from happening. So, what else wasn't she safe from?

She knew these thoughts weren't going to get her anywhere. She also knew that she needed to build up the strength that was still an integral part of her and move forward. Pull herself up by her bootstraps and all that. But, for the life of her, she couldn't do it, right now.

She wanted to think over what had transpired and turn it into something better to build on. Not sink further into. Not lock it up in a corner of her mind and allow it to become a subconscious reason for new fears. She wanted to be able to walk through life feeling as confidently as she could, again. She didn't want to be afraid of a bogeyman around every corner.

As it was, she'd nearly succumbed to giving her body over, which did nothing for her own sense of personal integrity. But, during her capture, she'd made up her mind that she was going to do whatever she had to do, in order to live. She'd heard about the women in the desert, and she'd decided she wasn't going to be one of them. She wondered if anyone she knew realized that about her. That not knowing who she was, and having no idea how long she'd be in such a predicament, she'd made up her mind to do whatever she had to do, in order to make it out alive.

She wouldn't be buried in the desert like that. Just the thought of those other women...damn. She choked back a sob and inhaled a deep breath, instead. What if that had been her?

Tears had begun to make tracks down her cheeks. So, when she heard the noise from inside, she quickly wiped them - and hoped she looked more presentable than she felt. Since she knew that she and Matt were the only two people left, she also knew he was on his way out to see her. And, God, she didn't want to talk about any of this and hoped he'd stay mum on the topic.

She didn't get her wish, but it wasn't entirely his fault.

He approached her from the side, and she barely glanced at him, preferring the lights of the city below. Before he was standing next to her, she'd put her mind on pause and went back to enjoying the cityscape. Entirely on purpose.

"CJ..." he started.

She wouldn't even look at him. "Yes?"

"You know you don't have to go through this alone - "

But, she stopped him right there.

"Of course, I do. No one here knows what that was like. Only the women in jail with me. And, yet, they were wholly individual. Some of them were much worse than mine, admittedly. For me...at least, I wasn't there longer, not knowing who I was. But, if I feel the need to talk to someone about it, I'll call Rhonda."

Knowing that her comments would have hurt his feelings and regretting it, she turned to look at him. She didn't feel like apologizing but went on to give him a little more explanation. "Houston, I can't wrap my mind around all of this. I can't believe that something like that was going on, let alone that it happened to me. Moreover, I can't believe where I'd gone in my own thoughts, while I was there." She didn't want to cry. She'd done enough of it, already. Still, her eyes shown bright.

"You know you can talk to me, CJ," he said, as he lightly ran his hand through her hair in a gesture of comfort.

It did help. Some. But, she knew he'd never truly understand. "I know I can talk to you, but you'd never understand this. I wouldn't want you to. I know that you've had a month of your life missing - some of it still unremembered - and I know that that scared the hell out of you, especially under the circumstances. But, not remembering who you are... And, having it happen in the situation I found myself in..." She felt sick, and it must have shown.

"None of what happened was your fault, you know. None of it." He was hellbent to let her know that there was nothing she could have done differently.

Her voice did break, then. "I know. That's why it's so damned awful," she got out, before succumbing to her tears.

He pulled her to him and held on tight, while she cried. She'd not done this, yet. Not in front of him. She'd tried to appear as if she was handling this well, but he knew better. He knew her better. So, her next few words shocked him a bit.

"Houston..." she began, as she calmed more. Her cheek on his shoulder, she stared into the night around them.

"Yes?" he murmured into her hair.

"I think I'm afraid of myself, right now. Not so much my captors as who I was going to become because of them."

He paused a moment before asking her, "Why? What's going on, CJ?"

With a trace of the deep sadness she'd been experiencing, she said, "I would have slept with them, Houston. Any of them, if it would have kept me alive to see another day and possibly figure a way out. I would have done it, and I'm torn, knowing that about myself. But, I wasn't going to be killed and thrown in the desert like I was less than nothing. Like those other women - " and she lost her battle, again. She hung onto him like a lifeline, and he held her just as tightly.

He was so damned angry at what had been done to her, but now, he felt like a cat on a hot tin roof. Jumpy and ready for a fight. Only there was no one to fight. All of the bad guys were in jail and accounted for. No, neither of their pain was going to be that easy to handle. They wouldn't be able to enact physical revenge. How could you for something like this, anyway? It reached too far, and too many had already lost their lives in its midst.

So, he held her and let her cry her heart out. And, his own tears came. He murmured soothing words to her, neither really knowing what he was saying - but both knowing the words were offered in comfort.

But what she didn't know for sure - yet - was that he wasn't judging her for her admittance, and he never would. He couldn't. He'd been in his own prickly situations, and he knew how survival instincts could make you do things that weren't easy to face, later. It's what happens, when your will to live prevails.

He told her, "CJ, don't be afraid of yourself. You may not believe this readily, but you're a survivor. And, that's what was kicking in - your survival instincts. Just as it had kicked in for the other women. Some broke, and they lost their lives. And, we're making sure that the people responsible will pay for their crimes. But, you're here and back where you belong, and you shouldn't feel guilty about it. Not about anything. You did nothing wrong, and nothing you might have done in adapting to your situation would have been wrong because you were being forced into it."

She didn't say anything, so he separated them enough to tilt her face up. Looking her in the eye, he said, "I mean it, CJ. Somewhere deep down inside, you know I'm telling you the truth. So, don't push it away. Don't ignore it. You only would have done what you had to do. I'm just glad that I was able to get to you before you had to live with the reality of it."

She cringed at that, and more tears slid down her face, but she was calmer now. She nodded almost imperceptibly and half closed her eyes to shield herself from his intense inspection. She didn't want to be looking anyone - especially him - in the eye. Not when she was admitting to having made the choice to prostitute herself in exchange for another day of life.

"It makes me sick."

"It makes me sick, too." With that, she started pulling away from him, but he held her tighter. "No, I'm not letting you go. You don't make me sick, CJ. You could never make me feel that way about you. Don't you know that? And, I can damn well guarantee that no one else would feel that way about you, either, if they knew of your decision. Which they'll never hear from me, anyway. Just know we're infinitely glad it hadn't come down to that."

"Hmm..." she murmured without committing to a reply.

"You don't believe me?" he asked.

"I believe you, Houston. I do. I can get a good part of me to believe it because I'd like to think I would feel the same way, if it was someone else in my shoes. God knows, I don't blame any of the other women for doing what they had to do - long before I wound up in the same boat. I just..."

"You just what?"

When she stayed quiet, he said, "CJ, look at me." When she complied a few seconds later, he questioned her again, "You just what?"

"It's nothing I can't get through, Houston. I mean it. I've just been thinking about it too much, and I can't get some of the things out of my mind. I may not have had sex with any of them, yet, but I was certainly pawed and fondled." With that reminder, she had a powerful flashback and needed to break contact with him. Even though it was Matt, her best friend who would never do anything to her, she needed the physical distance. Right now. Sensing this, he let her go.

"I'm sorry," she said as she completed the few-feet separation.

Though he was concerned and a little nonplussed at her actions with him, he told her the truth, "Don't be sorry. You still have nothing to be sorry for."

"Okay," she said on a swallow. She knew that she wasn't afraid of him or anyone else in her normal daily experience. But, right now, when the need for physical distance hit her, she was going to flee to a comfortable place. "It's not you, Houston. It's me, as cliche as that sounds. When I feel like I need a little space, I'm going to take it without apologies. I'm sorry," she finished, and then chuckled at that.

He smiled with her and felt a little better that her actions didn't have anything to do with him, personally. He hoped that the rest of her trepidations would naturally fall away. That being back in the office and into daily routines would help her work things out as a natural course of events. So, he replied, "I'm pretty sure I understand, CJ. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. For anything, at any time."

"I know. I just don't want to need you. Don't be hurt. I don't want to need anyone. And, I'm resentful that I'm probably going to need help through this, at all. I'd hoped that I wouldn't, but since I've just physically separated myself from you, I can see that that was a fantasy..." She looked down at her shoes, determined not to break down and cry, again. Damnable night. She hadn't wanted to be here, to begin with. But, at least, she was working through some things. And, he was here with her, not letting her get away with feeling contempt for herself. Thank God, she wasn't prone to being maudlin, too.

"Hey," he said.

She sighed but looked up at him, nonetheless. She looked weary, and his heart broke a little more for her. Though, he would never tell her that. She'd tan his hide, if she knew. He smiled at that - a bright smile, which shocked her somewhat, considering their conversation.

"What?" she asked.

"Well, I was just thinking how you'd tan my hide, if you knew what I was really thinking about you." He raised a brow, and she took the bait.

"What were you really thinking about me?" she raised a brow to match his and took a step closer to him.

"How even when you're a little gloomy, you're still the prettiest woman in the whole place." With that, he rocked back on his heels. No guilt for gliding over what his real thought had been. This one was equally as true and much better to tell.

"Oh, please," and she rolled her eyes. "I'm the only woman in the place, right now." They both chuckled at that, and she went on to say, "I know what you're trying to do," and making sure they had strong eye contact, she finished, "and, for the record, it's working."

Two bright smiles mirrored each other.

"Good. I love you, you know." He was serious, now.

A little taken aback that he'd spoken the words to her aloud, she said, "I know you love me, Houston. We've been friends too long for me not to know." Keeping the humor up, she added, "Besides, what's not to love?" She winked at him, getting some of her spunk back.

He closed the distance between them, again, because he sensed that he could. He lightly held her upper arms in his hands and told her, "I can't think of anything not to love about you, CJ. That's what I'm trying to tell you. And, when you're feeling better, I'd like us to really talk about some things. Right now, I want to keep this lighter for you, but I think it may help you to know that none of this affects how I feel about you. It never would." Then, he kissed her on her forehead, and she felt a little stunned by his implied meanings. Though, happily so.

And, she supposed that she wasn't as bad off as she'd originally thought, if she was feeling open to this, now. But, she also knew that if it had been anybody else, she wouldn't even be here.

Quietly, she said, "Okay. We'll talk more, later." With that, she smiled and tilted her chin up to him.

Hoping he was taking the right cue from her, he lightly kissed her on the mouth. Just a brush of the lips, with a promise of more sweet things to come.

And, she accepted.


End file.
